Chapter 47

Spring 2002

Hermione wasn't particularly paying attention to the movie that she'd put on as her entire attention was on her fingers running through Theo's curls, and Draco's warm hand on her stomach. She tried to appreciate the moment for what it was. They were finally together again. Her wizards had realised that she was real, at least for the most part. She caught their sceptical gazes now and again and she responded with a smile, a touch, affirmations that she was there and they were really together.

Just being able to cuddle and hold one another again was more than she could have ever dreamed of even a year ago. She'd been weaving her webs like a spider to get the three of them to this point; it hadn't been easy, simple nor quick. So they weren't entirely free or healthy yet, it was only a matter of time until she'd set everything to rights.

Capturing each of her wizards' lips in turn, Hermione couldn't help but notice how easily out of breath they both became when their kisses dragged on.

"I need to work on my stamina," Theo murmured, his voice rough, his fingers holding tight to her as though he was afraid that he would float off or that she might disappear.

"Or maybe our witch simply steals our breath away," Draco sighed, his fingers tangled in her curls as they brushed the shell of her ear.

"You're both probably overdue for your medication," Hermione started to rise. Theo grabbed her wrist.

"Don't go yet, princesse." Draco's intensity matched the fire in Theo's eyes, but the floo alarm began ringing in the front room, causing them all to jump in surprise.

"Fuck!" Hermione jumped up. "Someone's here. Fuck."

Theo and Draco made no comments, allowing Hermione to flee the room towards the fireplace to uncover who had come into her home.

Standing in the foyer, attempting to scourgify all the ashes from his person while one-handedly holding a giant bouquet of flowers, was Neville Longbottom. He'd grown significantly taller and broader since the war had ended. Witch Weekly was constantly referencing his "glow up" whenever they caught pictures of him outside the flower and herbology shop that he had opened in Diagon Alley. He dressed just like a man who ran a florist shop might be expected to dress, flannel shirt and khakis, he kept his hair a little long and his beard short. The glamour on his wedding ring was flickering, probably with exhaustion and it appeared and disappeared as Hermione took him in. She hadn't seen him in weeks and had hoped that he'd managed to get out of the country despite knowing that he and Luna would have informed her immediately if that had been the case.

"Oh, Neville, thank gods it's just you!" Hermione was relieved and hugged her friend. She didn't think she could handle another "surprise" inspection without hexing the Aurors. She was very nearly ready to bomb the entire Ministry into dust. As she considered it, it wasn't a terrible idea. Although there were things she needed in the Department of Mysteries. She needed that floor intact.

"Personal flower delivery," Neville smiled after he let her go, handing over the large bouquet of nasturtiums and daisies to Hermione.

Secrets and triumph. The meaning of the flowers rang in her mind.

The card in his hand was within a fancy envelope. Hermione ran her fingers over the fine quality paper, knowing that the location that she'd needed for weeks was within the folded paper. Draco and Theo were doing better. There was no reason that she couldn't move forward with other plans tonight. Who knew when she'd have this handed to her on a silver platter again? She turned the card over and over in her hands.

She'd promised herself that those responsible would pay with their blood, and those payments were coming due.

Draco and Theo had followed her and stood in the doorway, staring at Neville. He smiled at them reassuringly. They hadn't seen each other in years, since before their trials, but Neville turned back to Hermione.

"Mrs. Krum sends her regards," Neville murmured, biting his lip to keep from saying more she was sure.

"Has the baby come yet?" Hermione asked, her hand on Neville's forearm squeezed.

"Looks like any day," Neville replied, his voice flat and eyes despairing.

"And your travel visa?" Hermione asked, even though she already suspected that it hadn't been approved. He wouldn't be in her front room if the Wizengamot had permitted him to go to Bulgaria to "collect flower samples."

"Grandmother and the rest of the Wizengamot aren't letting House scions out of the country while things are so…unsettled." Neville's face was tight, his jaw hidden by the light dusting of his dark beard was clenched tight. The fury that the Longbottom heir kept tightly confined was threatening to come pouring out and woe betide whoever was in its radius.

"Oh Nev, I'm so sorry," Hermione began, wanting to offer her friend what little support that she could.

"Don't -" Neville choked out as he shook his head. "I can't…I just can't talk about it right now, Hermione."

Frowning, Hermione stopped herself from saying more, instead asking, "Can you stay and supervise the boys while I step out for an hour or so?"

Her guest shook himself, a friendly expression falling over her face like a mask. This was how Neville was able to work with the Wizarding public every day, instead of burning everything to the ground. The "Neville Longbottom" most people knew was an illusion, not that "Hermione Granger" was much different.

"Of course." Neville reclaimed the bouquet. "I'll put this in water for you, shall I?"

"Great, I'll just give them their medications and then I'll change and be off," Hermione rushed to find the things that she needed, inhalers, pills, potions and dull black dress robes, a cloak with a hood, and one of her many vials of polyjuice.

She carefully held Theo's face as he breathed in the inhaler, she watched his eyes to be sure that he was focusing on her. "Remember to inhale as I push the top." Theo nodded and took a deep breath, sucking down the medication that the muggle doctor had insisted he needed.

Hermione handed out potions and pills to the two men, her fingers running over their Azkaban tattoos. Tonight wasn't particularly risky, but there was always risk in what she did. Regimes didn't fall without effort. She kissed each of them lightly putting all her love into her touch, attempting not to let her trepidation leak through their bond. They couldn't suspect what she was up to yet, they weren't quite strong enough if the Ministry sent a legilimens in to question them. Soon they would be stronger and she could let them in on all her plans.

They might be angry with her, but they'd be alive and free when she was done.

That's all that mattered to her.

The three of them would be alive and free, and most importantly together.

Hermione was prepared to do anything to make that reality.

Draco noticed Hermione take Bella's wand and her own, slipping them into a hidden pocket in her cloak. His mercury eyes measured as he watched her, wondering what kind of errand called for leaving the cottage at night with Bellatrix's wand.

Hermione met his eyes as she closed the drawer where Bella's wand was kept as though she expected him to say something.

The house's silence echoed after Hermione stepped outside to apparate, leaving the three wizards alone.

Theo gave Neville his full attention, uncannily perceptive sapphire eyes taking in the Gryffindor wizard, asking, "How is Pansy?"

Neville took in a shaky breath, preparing to answer honestly, instead he surprised himself when out popped, "Better than you lot, that's for certain."

"A low bar, Longbottom." Theo laughed hoarsely.

"You sound like absolute shite," Neville grimaced. "Come on, I'll make you some tea and tell you everything that you've missed. Save your voice for sweet nothings for Hermione when she gets back."

Neville walked off towards the kitchen, the two former prisoners following in his wake.

"I don't remember him being such a prick," Draco murmured in Theo's ear.

Theo shrugged. "War and loss changes us all."

...

The bar was a dingy dive and Hermione ordered a drink to blend in more than any desire to drink the swill that they were assuredly serving here. Her masculine appearance did not attract any attention. She knew she'd been right that there wouldn't be any women in this shite hole, except for a couple Knockturn whores who were closer to death than they ought to be at their age. Hermione didn't think she could sit on the laps of those filthy guards without retching. The smell of the pub itself and the fumes from her glass were more than enough to make her nauseous.

Archimedes Selwyn, an Azkaban guard she had run-ins with at the DMLE, sat at the bar trading barbs with two other Azkaban guards. He was a misogynistic pig who liked to belittle her whenever they interacted, insinuating she didn't understand the nature of evil, something she'd come to know very well. Her hand ran over Bellatrix's wand, hidden in a secret pocket in her cloak.

Hermione Granger and evil were intimate friends.

Selwyn was a dark haired man with a florid face and bulbous nose acquired from heavy drinking. Wizards could intake a great deal more than Muggles without ill effect so Selwyn must be nearly pickling himself. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn't be the drink that got him.

His time in this realm was rapidly coming to a close. He just didn't know it yet.

The bar didn't even have a loo, Hermione noticed as the drunken patrons went out a side door to relieve themselves in the darkened alley near the premises.

Hermione sipped at her drink, suppressing the desire to vomit up the alcohol that she hoped wouldn't blind her. It seemed too strong to be safe to drink, the scent reminding her of muggle turpentine or nail polish remover. It was positively noxious. She wished there was a plant behind her to dump it into.

The guard that she'd chosen for this part of her carefully orchestrated revenge was normally on the ward that had housed Theo and Draco. He could answer her questions about what had happened inside Azkaban's walls and who was responsible, and then she'd use him to put the next phase of her plan into action. Waste not, want not after all.

Selwyn stood on unsteady feet and laughed raucously at something one of his companions said, wobbling as he started to orient himself towards the side door. Hermione didn't wait, she stood and walked outside, finding a spot shadowed by the building even more than the eerie darkness that filled the entire alley. She reminded herself that she was the thing that was hiding in the dark with evil intent, but even that couldn't make her completely cast away the shiver that ran down her spine.

Stumbling over the doorway, Selwyn nearly fell to his knees on the piss covered cobblestones.

Making sure there was no one else in the alley, she approached him silent even though the bulk of her borrowed form felt awkward.

"Alright there?" she asked in her voice, made masculine from the polyjuice.

Selwyn swivelled towards where she stepped from the shadows, squinting to see her form properly in the darkness but otherwise he remained unbothered by her sudden appearance.

"Aye, just a tricky step," Selwyn grunted, waving her off so he could unbutton his trousers to take a piss. Before he could go through with that, she drew Bellatrix's wand and thought of her loves, her soul mates, the years wrongfully stolen from them only for her wizards to be returned to her broken because of what scum like this guard did to them.

Hermione meant it with her whole soul when she cast with the dark wand, "Imperio."

Selwyn stood at attention, his expression dazed, waiting for her command. She had him right where she wanted him and jumped right into it.

"Tell me, what you did to Malfoy and Nott," she asked. "The youngers," she clarified, seeing the confusion on his enspelled face. "Answer me honestly."

"The younger Death Eaters whined like little bitches when they first got thrown in. That it was too cold, the water wasn't up to their standards," Selwyn complained. "We were sick of them after a day. Horatio Porter suggested we cast silencio on all the cells and prisoners, and that was much better. They would open and close their mouths, but no sound would come out. Blessed silence. You could almost forget they were there. In fact, we sometimes did for weeks." His facial expression was amused at that, and Hermione had to restrain herself from stabbing him in the throat with Bellatrix's wand. The temptation was so strong that she could taste it.

"Amazing that none of them died," Hermione deadpanned.

"Bloody Death Eaters don't know when to give up. Kingsley should have never banished the Dementors. They all should have gotten the Kiss." Even under her curse, Selwyn wouldn't shut his mouth.

"Is that what you wanted? For them to die?" Hermione asked, the rage she felt suppressed for the moment.

"Of course, it's what they deserve after all they did."

"Then I have an idea that I think you'll like. You are going to go back inside the pub and finish your drink before flooing home, then when you go back into work you are going to slit the throats of Lucius Malfoy and Thoros Nott and then pitch yourself off the battlements into the sea all without being caught. Won't be hard during the night shift, will it Archimedes?"

"No. I'm the only one on my floor for half the night," he readily agreed.

Hermione wanted to give him a few rounds of Cruciatus so the lesson stuck, but he was already falling down drunk and had in fact pissed himself while she'd been questioning him. The stink of him was enough to make her want to take a step back.

She wanted to use this face again so she then obliviated the memory of her and replaced it with someone wearing a Death Eater mask just in case they were able to extract memories from his corpse, who knew what the Unspeakables were capable of. Because she was feeling particularly petty, she used Lucius' mask for the manufactured memory. Let the Ministry chew on that.

Content that she had covered all of her tracks, she let Selwyn go, watching as he hobbled back in the pub. Now she would let time and magic do its work. She waited in the alley for a while before walking slowly out into the darkened street. If it wasn't for the necessary secrecy of her current task, Hermione would wait for the other two guards and use one of the many Black family curses that she'd learned since the war.

Bellatrix's wand thrummed in her hand, begging for her to engage in more Dark Arts. She took a breath and slid it back into her pocket. It obeyed her well enough these days, but it always wanted to do more, hurt more, curse more. It had a will of its own and she needed to remember it. It would taste more blood soon, but patience had never been one of Bellatrix's virtues, and hasty destruction was something that her wand still expected. Hermione found it impacted her own desires and tried not to finger it in her pocket like it was Tolkien's one ring.

The comparison was perhaps a little too close for comfort.

The polyjuice had worn off by the time Hermione returned home, finding Neville alone in the kitchen inspecting the little pots of herbs she grew at the windowsill.

"You're doing better about remembering to water these guys," Neville acknowledged. "I'm glad I got you to realise you weren't a complete lost cause when it came to plants."

She laughed. "I only don't have a black thumb, because of you and Narcissa's advice. I'd be at a loss without you. Where are the boys?"

"I noticed they were tired so I made them go to bed. They wanted to wait up for you but I told them that you probably wouldn't be happy with them if they were exerting themselves and they listened," Neville reported. "They are much more obedient than they were before everything. It's a bit eerie honestly."

Hermione chuckled and smiled appreciatively at her friend, "Thank you so much for that, I really need them to recover soon. I can't bear to see them like that. Draco barely has the energy to snark and Theo is too tired to be bossy."

"If anyone can whip them back into shape it's you," he offered reassuringly, before inquiring,

"Were you able to complete your errand?"

"I did." A self-satisfied smirk grew on her face. "Oh, and while you're here, I'd like to order some flowers for Luna."

"Absolutely, what are we sending?" Neville pulled out a little notepad from his flannel shirt pocket and a muggle pen ready to jot down her order.

"Lotus Corniculatus and Daffodils."

Revenge and New Beginnings.

That arrangement should tell Luna all she needed to know.

The next stage was afoot.